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Updated: June 5, 2025
While fishing one day, Giant and Shep ran into several of the Spink crowd and some unpleasant words passed. When the rival campers separated, the feeling upon both sides was very bitter. "I don't like those chaps at all," was Shep's comment. "I am sorry they came to Firefly Lake." "They make me sick," was the way Giant expressed himself.
She had had but an uncertain glance at the thing lying huddled in the tall grass, but her instinct like Shep's and Gypsy's understood. And for a blind, terror-stricken moment, she felt that she must yield as they yielded to the fear within her, to the primitive urge to flee from Death; that she could not draw near the spot where a man had died, where even now the body lay cold in the sunshine.
"Hope it visits your camp to-night -I guess you'll be leaving in the morning just as we are doing." And that was all that was said by the Spink crowd. "That ghost must have been something awful to look at," was Shep's remark, as he and his chums rowed back to camp. "If ever a crowd was scared they were." "Well, if the ghost visits us maybe we'll be scared too," answered Giant.
She had forgotten about Ephraim and his idols; she picked up Shep's trousers from the rug, where she had dropped them, and, looking intently at her thimble finger, told him she was very glad that he had come. "Did you think I would not come?" said he. "I'm going to take you home with me, Dorothy, you and your mother and the boys. It's not fit for you to be here alone."
But Martha sat huddled in a shrunken bunch on the window seat, looking out with her dim old eyes as though she saw something stranger than the autumn landscape. "Is anything the matter, Martha?" asked the young woman. "'Tis death, 'tis death a-coming," answered the quavering voice; "I knew 'twere coming. I knew it. 'Tweren't for nothing that old Shep's been howling all morning.
"See thisey his work." "And look here!" cries Saunderson, exposing a ragged wound in Shep's throat; "thot's the Terror black be his fa'!" "Ay," says Long Kirby with an oath; "the tykes love him nigh as much as we do." "Yes," says Tammas. "Yo' jest watch!"
Shep sighed deeply and sat down with his nose resting on the couch near Betsy's knee, following all their movements with his kind, dark eyes. Once in a while Betsy stopped hugging Deborah or exclaiming over a new dress long enough to pat Shep's head and fondle his ears. This was what he was waiting for, and every time she did it he wagged his tail thumpingly against the floor.
"Not very large," was Shep's comment as they picked up the game. "But the rabbits are young, and they'll make fine eating." "It is a good thing that new game law isn't in effect yet," said Whopper. "If it was we'd not be allowed to shoot rabbits until next October." "You are right, Whopper -hunting will be a good deal more restricted after the new laws go into effect."
"A rat might have gnawed them," suggested Giant. "Those cartridges wouldn't cause such a wreckage as this," said Snap firmly. His senses were now coming back to him. "Well, I never!" he exclaimed suddenly. "What's up now?" "I just thought of something." "What is it?" "When I left Shep's house I walked in this direction, because I was worried for fear somebody might steal our traps.
"So do I," answered Snap. "Even as it is, I sometimes think we are shooting too much." "Well, if we don't bring the game down somebody else will," said Whopper. "Some day they'll have to pass some more laws, protecting game," was Shep's comment. "If they don't, there won't be anything to shoot inside of the next fifteen or twenty years."
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